Had to split into two posts because of the character limit.


Title: Memories of the First Relic Priest
Subtitle: The Old Ones
Regions to trigger: Axlotl
Description:

The venerable Lord Kroak is said to have been the first of the Slann Mage-Priests spawned upon the world, the eldest of the fabled First Generation. The mysterious Old One Тероk taught Kroak of the Winds of Magic, and it was the serene Potec who shared the secrets of unwinding the threads of time. It is written that Lord Kroak and his peers were the ones to teach the first ancestors of the Elves to wield magic. These things and more has Kroak seen, and it is said he is fated to endure until the last moment of the universe itself.

Title: Memories of the First Relic Priest
Subtitle: The Tale of Marco Colombo
Regions to trigger: Chaqua
Description:

"Suddenly we heard the haunting sound of many reed pipes and the thunder of great resonant drums. A procession of Skink musicians and bronze clad Saurus brandishing halberds appeared from a great dark portal on the platform of the pyramid. Behind these came an extraordinary sight. Four Saurus wearing armour made from the bones of gigantic monsters, bearing on a palanquin what appeared to be a bundle of rags tied up with string and bedecked with colourful plumes and glittering gold objects. Strapped to the head of this object was a golden mask fashioned in the form of a grimacing Slann. Its huge, staring inlaid eyes of shell and topaz were very disconcerting. The palanquin swayed and lurched from side to side as the bearers danced to the rhythm of the drums and pipes. It was a strange hypnotic tune which I shall never forget. Even to this day it still haunts me!"

Extract from “The Tale of Marco Colombo”, circa. 1492 IC.

Title: Memories of the First Relic Priest
Subtitle: The Defence of Itza
Regions to trigger: Itza
Description:

During the Great Catastrophe the Chaos Daemons besieged Itza, the First City and linchpin of the Lizardmen’s arcane defences. Itza was under the protection of Lord Kroak, first of all Slann spawned upon the world and the mightiest of mages. The energy dome that surrounded Itza crackled with energy, turning Daemons to dust as they railed against it. Yet after years of strain, even Lord Kroak could sustain such mystic walls no longer, and with a final surge, he exploded the barrier outwards, flattening the surrounding jungle. A hundred thousand Daemons were banished in an instant. Nevertheless, the remainder swarmed into Itza.

Of all that long war, no battle was more fiercely fought than the one amongst the streets of Itza. Only an epic stand by Lord Kroak’s army of Temple Guard prevented the Daemons from overrunning the Great Pyramid. For many days and nights, the elite Saurus warriors stood firm on the lofty Bridge of Stars. Using his reservoirs of energy, Lord Kroak prepared his final incantations. As the last of the Temple Guard was cut down, Lord Kroak spouted forth spells that were the preserve of gods, raining fire from the heavens to vaporise the foe. Time stood still as the fabric of the universe strained at the outpour of sheer power. Yet eventually even Lord Kroak succumbed.

A dozen Bloodthirsters, protected by the favour of their dark god, fought through the deluge of spells and reached the top of the pyramid. There, they fell upon Lord Kroak’s form, ripping him apart in a savage instant. So overcharged with arcane energies was Lord Kroak that his spirit fought on, refusing to let even death hinder him. Set free of his flesh, Kroak’s radiant will soared above the ruins, scourging the invaders with a divine light that was like unto a second sun. The First City was saved.

Title: Memories of the First Relic Priest
Subtitle: My Greatest Pupil
Regions to trigger: Hexoatl
Description:

Lord Kroak's palanquin was gingerly placed in the centre of Hexoatl's antechamber. Lord Mazdamundi gestured wordlessly and the Skink attendants hurriedly left the room. A great throbbing hum reverberated throughout the chamber as the two ancient beings communed telepathically. Who could say what the two were discussing, or even if a conversation, in the traditional sense of the word, was taking place, since it was common knowledge, amongst the Skinks at least, that Lord Kroak could not communicate in his mummified state.

Such an event was rarer than an eclipse. In fact no Skink in living memory could recall such a meeting. These two beings had last been in each other's presence in the days of the Great Catastrophe, when Chaos roamed the world near-unimpeded. Lord Mazdamundi was one of Lord Kroak's greatest students, back when Lord Kroak was still counted amongst the living. As a first generation Slann, Lord Kroak had communed directly with the mythical Old Ones, and as such the ancient knowledge he must have imparted to Lord Mazdamundi would have been precious indeed.

Few races could benefit from the strength of their long dead elders, but in this the Lizardmen were the exception. After Lord Kroak was slain during the Great Catastrophe the Skinks diligently collected every last scrap of his ravaged body and, with great reverence, the remains were swathed in resin-soaked wrappings. Thus was created the first Relic Priest.

Title: Memories of the First Relic Priest
Subtitle: Visions of the End Times
Regions to trigger: Huahuan Desert (Chamber of Visions)
Description:

Lord Kroak's immobile form was brought into the chamber and set down before the pool by reverential Skinks, chittering softly. A soft thrum echoed throughout the chamber as Lord Kroak gazed into the future...

From atop the pinnacle of the mountainous pyramid-temple of Itza, hollow eye sockets tracked descending doom. Trailing green fire, fragments of the broken moon, began to rain down. Blazing mountains plummeted into the seas around Lustria, boiling the ocean. Multiple meteors crashed upon Lustria itself. The force of those impacts should have washed the world with apocalyptic fire, burning off its atmosphere and leaving behind a scoured orb, naked to the coldness of the void.

Slowly, indomitably, impossibly, a mummified hand lifted in defiance. From behind the golden mask came a single word. His was the power cosmic, and energies from beyond the stars were his to command one final time. He could not halt the destruction, but he could contain it. Lustria and the Southlands were smashed asunder, yet the firestorms were dissipated. The tidal waves that should have washed over the tallest mountains, wrecking the world in their fury, were instead becalmed.

Protected by his Shield of the Old Ones – an orb of serenity amidst the inferno – Lord Kroak ingurgitated the energies, using them to produce several protective force domes. Incongruously, the chunks of earth and jungle under each dome floated through the cataclysm, as Lord Kroak sent them up and beyond the horizon of the world. It was a last selfless act before he was consumed in the conflagration that raged over the sunken lands of Lustria.

Title: Warden of the White Tower
Subtitle: A Magical Purge
Region to trigger: Talabheim
Description:

A motley collection of humans stood before Teclis and his fellow loremasters, Yrtle and Finreir. These unfortunates were who passed for mages among Men. The leader of the humans, one called Magnus of Nuln, said they spent the last 2000 years rooting out the magic users among them, for fear of corruption and the word of their man-god Sigmar. Those standing here could only be summoned by promise of pardon. Little wonder that their mages were so poor.

Curiously, some humans, despite clearly having and using magical power, refused to stand before him. They claimed they were priests and not wizards, that their power came from faith and godly intervention as opposed to magic. Finreir and Yrtle itched to correct their ignorance, but Teclis stopped them. These priests were able to use magic safely, and time was short.

Teclis nodded at the other loremasters, who poured their power into Teclis' spell. Lightning blasted from his hands and arced into the humans. To an uninformed observer, it would seem the elf was striking down men and women at random. Teclis, of course, knew better. Even if Magnus had not asked him to kill all who were corrupted beyond redemption, Teclis would have done so himself. As each human fell, the stigma of mutation was revealed on their bodies, a mark of dark magic even the humans could understand.

Among those assembled before him, Teclis noticed a tall, well built man in full armor with a sword the length of his leg. But for his presence here and the fiery wrath of Aqshy burning brightly in him, he did not resemble a mage whatsoever; if anything, he would have fit seamlessly in the regiments of Magnus' personal guard.

But it was not the swordsman whom Teclis found most interesting. He had seen that every last one of the human wizards either bore the mark of Dhar upon them or only one of the Winds of Magic, whether red, blue or some other color. All, save one. One who bore the marks of all eight Winds upon his spirit, yet had no hint of corruption. This one had promise, for he was strong enough to use all eight Winds of Magic, but was wise enough not to try. Wiser than the Druchii , Teclis wryly observed. Maybe humans would be worth teaching after all.

PS. Those of you who are familiar with the first Patriarchs of the Colleges of Magic may recognize the two dudes Teclis is singling out.

Cheers he who cannot aim. Your Teclis events are now live. Keep em coming!

As promised, more Volkmar.

TITLE: "Servant of Sigmar"
SUB-TITLE: "Prophet of Sigmar?"
REGION: Weismund
DESCRIPTION:

"The insolence of this renegade priest can no longer be tolerated!" The voice of Johann Esmer resonated within Volkmar's tent, grating on the Grand Theogonist's ears. Esmer was well respected amongst the clergy and clearly had ambitions to become the next Grand Theogonist when Volkmar's days were done, but he could irritating at times and, Volkmar suspected, too weak to do the position justice.

Sighing quietly to himself, Volkmar addressed the levelled concern. "What has this man done?"

Documents and witnesses were brought forward. It seemed this renegade priest had taken it upon himself to root out the corrupt among the clergy of Sigmar's holy church and enact his own justice upon them. The scandal, as was stated to the Grand Theogonist, was that no legal authority was consulted, no trial for proof of this man's accusations was held, and, it was said, no evidence could be found of this priest having been officially ordained by the church.

"And now," Esmer continued, "there are even folk claiming that this renegade is some prophet of our most holy and divine Sigmar. This blasphemy cannot be allowed! Arch Lector Aglim himself has called for the excommunication of this heretic, this . . . Luthor Huss."

An enigmatic smile spreading across his face for one brief moment, Volkmar shook it off and rose from his seat, the written evidence clenched tightly in his fist, "From what I can tell, the men in question were duly deserving of the punishment they received."

Gasps sounded from several of the surrounding clergy, Esmer included.

"Furthermore, Huss has not declared himself a prophet, and by all accounts is a humble man, who should not be punished for the gossip of the common folk. Now you are all dismissed"

With quiet grumbles the assembly of Sigmarite holy men filed out of the tent. Volkmar sat back in his chair and smiled to himself as he recalled the glimpses of destiny Lord Sigmar had bestowed on him, speaking the name again . . . "Luthor Huss, our god has great plans for you."


TITLE: "Servant of Sigmar"
SUB-TITLE: "Blood in the Snow"
REGION: Troll Country
DESCRIPTION:

The screams of dying men filled his ears, the whinnying of horses, the crack of gunfire, smell of blood, the horrible screech when a chariot or wagon was torn apart, the whizz of shrapnel scything through the air.

Following Kurt was what had led him here.

Before Volkmar lay the snow covered expanse of Troll Country, once the last refuge of the Ropsmenn princes before war with the Gospodars and Norse had driven them to extinction. Now this was a blasted land, an eternal battleground between Chaos and the realms of Order.

Years ago the Arch Lector Kurt Mannfeld had left the Empire, claiming he intended to locate the next Everchosen of Chaos, and kill him. Kurt had never returned, at least, not anything that resembled the Kurt Volkmar had known.

Eventually news had reached Volkmar that the Everchosen did exist, a corrupted man of the Empire who went by the name of Archaon. Like Kurt before him, Volkmar had ridden north to challenge the Everchosen, to prevent him from ever reaching the lands of his beloved Empire.

It had not gone well.

Volkmar had died that day, later to be resurrected as a cruel jest on the part of a daemon prince. Yet his resolve had never wavered, his faith remaining undiminished. The next invasion was coming, and Volkmar would not fail this time. He owed it to Kurt, he owed it to Otto Schepke, who had followed him that day, but most importantly, he owed it to himself.


TITLE: "Servant of Sigmar"
SUB-TITLE: "The Martyrs of Taalfjord"
REGION: Bechafen
DESCRIPTION:

Chants and moans of desperate men filled the air. Seekers of redemption, lost souls, men and women whose minds could no longer bear the weight of the world they lived in. Some came to this calling honestly, their families killed, villages destroyed. Others could be brought to this place, this humble emptiness where the self no longer mattered, and only punishing evil in the name if Sigmar remained.

'He that cleaves flesh and blood in my name, abideth in me, and I in him.' A quote from the Book of Eberlinus that came unbidden to Volkmar's mind.

It was a powerful ability that the righteous clergy of Sigmar had, to transform those who were suffering, often pitiable and wretched figures, into holy warriors, filled with the wrath of their god for the enemies of mankind. It was a power not to be taken lightly, and not to be abused.

Here along the upper stretches of the River Talabec Volkmar had once made use of that power. A Chaos warlord by the name of Grakthor Flameaxe had come seeking to pillage the Empire and no army had been nearby to help.

Scouring the countryside, Volkmar had amassed a great host of flagellants and smote Grakthor on the banks of the river. By the end of the day no more than a score of these desperate souls remained, but the threat to the Empire was vanquished. The cost in lives had been great, surely more than a professional army with knights and cannon would have suffered.

So it should be noted by all clergy, Volkmar mused as he gazed upon the masses of holy, if filthy, warriors trudging along in his wake, stretching out to the horizon, that while a power like this is often necessary, it should not be used rashly, lest the Empire be drained of its citizenry. With grim resolve, Volkmar gave the order to ready the flagellants for battle. Sigmar's enemies were many, and they needed smiting.



That's most of the lore for Volkmar, though I may add more if I can scrape enough together. If anyone is looking for the book quote in the last entry, it is from the Warhammer novel 'Warrior Priest' by Darius Hinks.

Perhaps I will do Gelt next.

Tanit you legend. I've added them in. Can't wait for Gelt. Thought it was hilarious that story where he screws over the guy with the mercenary army by turning all the gold into lead so the mercs can't get paid.

If you are interested, I have a lore request, and that is why does Volkmar's sigil glow green like that? Is there any lore entry associated with that that could be done? It looks cool but I have no idea why it does that. I think a cool Gelt entry also would be some battle scene where he transmutes people into gold. That would be awesome.

Thanks Oh_Man! Yeah, Gelt's excursion to Nordland will be mentioned, and he does in fact have a battle where he transmutes a bunch of people, it is called the Battle of Six Spikes if I recall correctly, where he defeats a horde of beastmen alongside Reiksmarshall Kurt Helborg. There will also be mention of his journey from Marienburg to Altdorf and his defeat of Thyrus Gormann for the position of Supreme Patriarch at the very least.

As for the item you mentioned, that is 'The Jade Griffon', an artefact said to have been blessed by Emperor Magnus the Pious himself and to have been carved from enchanted Jade. It is the item that is supposed to provide Volkmar with regeneration and it is a symbol of office. It draws its healing magic from the War Altar.

Awesome dude. Here is a Tehenhauin event, Wood Elf events and Tomb King events:


Title: Stories of the Serpent's Prophet
Subtitle: Vision of the End Times
Regions to trigger: Chamber of Visions
Description:

On a balcony high above the jungle canopy, on one of Hexoatl's many Stellar Pyramids, stood the Prophet. At this vantage point one could see for miles in every direction. Tehenhauin had been brooding over his recent failure at Pahuax. Despite his best laid plans, the hated Skaven had simply overwhelmed his Red Host with sheer numbers, and he had been forced to retreat. Lord Mazdamundi had later sallied forth from Hexoatl with an even greater army, and effortlessly smote vast numbers of the vermintide with his ancient Slann magics. The worst part was Tehenhauin was not even given a chance to redeem himself, as Lord Mazdamundi had, for reasons unknown to the Prophet, suddenly teleported away, taking half the host with him. Tehenhauin was left to dispatch the depleted Skaven forces, and had since returned to Hexoatl, awaiting further instructions that were, at present, not forthcoming.

Had he displeased Sotek in some way? Were his sacrifices not sufficient? His musings were cut short when he noticed something very strange happening beneath him. All across the city, strange lights had begun running the length of the pyramid-temples. Tehenhauin could only stare, mouth agape, as, one-by-one, the bulky edifices rose, like mountains pulling free of the ground. Great clumps of earth fell from their underbellies, and the roaring blast as they lifted off the ground flattened the surrounding jungle, sending wildlife scrambling for cover.

The ground beneath his feet shook violently. An urgent mental command flooded his mind, "Inside - now!" He turned from the balcony's edge… and three black-clad Skaven stood before him, thick poison dripping from their blades. Gutter Runners from Clan Eshin. Tehenhauin drew his blade.

"Red crest, you have slain many-many of our kind. We came here for the frog-thing - but we'll settle for you-you!"

As they moved to attack the unmistakable sound of air rushing through a blowpipe could be heard. One of the Skaven tensed and fell over, twitching violently as the blowdart's poisons coursed through his veins. The Chameleon Skink, Oxyotl, hung by one arm from the balcony awning, nearly invisible to the naked eye. His prehensile tail wrapped around the second assassin's neck and lifted the vermin bodily from the floor. The assassin's knife clattered to the ground as he scratched at the tail around his throat, legs kicking beneath him desperately. There was the brutal sound of snapping bone as Oxyotl made a sudden, violent jerk with his tail, and the rat ceased all movement.

The final assassin, somehow oblivious to all this, or perhaps not caring, still rushed at Tehenhauin, dagger raised. The Prophet parried blow after blow – knowing that one cut from that blade would mean instant, painful death. Perhaps the assassin would have gotten the better of him, but he too fell dead, a blowdart sticking out of his back.

“Thank you, hidden one.” The two Skinks clasped wrists. “I owe you my life.”

Tehenhauin suddenly realised the jungle, the clouds, even the great blue sky were gone. They were surrounded by stars and vast, empty blackness. Lustria was far beneath them, getting smaller and smaller still. The Prophet was beginning to struggle for breath. Oxyotl grabbed his arm and guided him to the safety of the Stellar Pyramid's interior.

“This is not the end, Prophet,” Oxyotl said solemnly. “Only a new beginning.”

Title: Oakheart Through The Ages
Subtitle: The Elders Commune
Regions to trigger: King's Glade
Description:

Durthu lumbered through the forests, coming to stop near a waystone. One of many that encircled this part of the forest, known as the Wildwood. Few ever ventured here willingly. The trees grew thickly here, and little sunlight made its way through the dense canopy. With a sudden movement belying his titanic stature, Durthu thrust his sword deep into the earth, almost to the hilt.

“Show yourself... brother.”

Two gleaming eyes pierced the darkness, and Coeddil approached. The two treemen, last of the Elders, faced each other, separated only by the magics of the waystone encirclement.

“Here to beg forgiveness, Durthu? How much suffering has the forest endured at her hands? If you had joined us that day, many trees would still stand. Adanhu would still walk the woods with us! I would not be shackled in this dark place!”

Durthu scratched his ravaged face, oak rasping.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps Ariel would have resisted the corruption, had she had the trust of the spirits of the forest. Perhaps the Corruptor could have been destroyed, once and for all, if you had stood with her – not against her! Perhaps Adanhu's death is on YOUR hands, Coeddil – traitor to the wood!

In a flash a nimble figure leapt out from the shadows, wooden claws outstreched. Durthu did not flinch as the dryad halted mere inches from his face, the waystone barrier suspending her in mid-leap. She struggled viciously against the magical bindings, even as her wooden skin began to smoke. Her eyes bore into Durthu's, blazing with pure, unrestrained hatred. Eventually, she relented, and collapsed to the ground.

“How dare you!” she shrieked. “Such hypocrisy! Such -”

“Enough, Drycha.” Coeddil waved her away. “You came here for a reason, did you not? Then say what needs to be said.”

The last of the Treemen Elders, ancient rivals and ancient friends, sat together on the forest floor and began to speak.

Title: Chronicles of the Avatar
Subtitle: The Rebirth
Regions to trigger: King's Glade
Description:

When the snows retreat and the breath of spring is felt once more on the air, the forest trembles with Orion's walking dreams. Soon after, the Wild Riders come for the Elf chosen to take up the mantle of the consort-king. Their method of selection is shrouded in mystery, and other Elves hold it to be ill-luck to attract the attention of Orion's riders lest this influence the choice.

On the last day of winter, the Elf chosen to become the new King of the Wild Hunt is garlanded with flowers and his naked skin decorated with ancient sigils. Finally, he is led into the Oak of Ages. The following morning, on the first day of spring, Ariel awakens from her slumbers and the reborn Orion thunders from the trees, the Wild Hunt howling at his heels.

Title: King in the Woods
Subtitle: The Gods Take Elven Form
Regions to trigger: The Oak of Ages
Description:

During the War of the Beard the Dwarfs marched upon Athel Loren in a throng many tens of thousands strong, with warriors drawn from dozens of holds. When they learned of this threat, the great lords and ladies of the Wood Elves held council at the foot of the Oak of Ages, and even the trees of the glade crowded close, as if paying attention to what was said.

In that fire-lit glade, beautiful Ariel found herself drawn to the Lord Orion. He was the bravest and most handsome of his folk as Ariel was the wisest and fairest of hers. Whilst the council debated how best to oppose the Dwarfs, Ariel and Orion were deep in a conversation of their own, seemingly oblivious to the great matters that were discussed around them. Finally, they slipped away, unnoticed and unremarked.

The mood of the council was otherwise bleak, for it was apparent to all that the battle would cost many lives, and victory was far from certain. Worse, the seers had determined that the Dwarfs were but the lesser of two nascent threats - a great horde of Greenskins was but a few days from launching their own assault. It was not until many hours later, when the feast was over, that the absence of Ariel and Orion was noted, but, when no amount of searching would reveal them, the errant lovers were reluctantly forgotten.

The next day, the great host of Athel Loren brought the Dwarfs to battle, and against the combined army of forest spirits and elves the Dwarfs were defeated. Yet, on the onset of winter, the host of Athel Loren was assailed by the Greenskins. The great horde drove the elves back as the forest spirits were addled by the intense cold of winter. The Elves prepared their last stand before the Oak of Ages.

Then, at dawn, the haunting cry of a great horn echoed on the wind. As the note faded, the mighty form of Kurnous, God of the Hunt, crashed through the woods. A pack of shadowy hounds was baying at his heels, and all the Elves who looked upon him were filled with fresh vigour. The horn was winded a second time, and the Greenskins met their doom.

In the battle’s aftermath, the exhausted Elves came before the Oak of Ages to pay homage. Here they discovered the enthroned figures of Ariel and Orion, now she the avatar of Isha, the mother goddess, and he the avatar of Kurnous, the hunter. Another great council was swiftly called, and all the lords and ladies of the forest knelt in worship to Ariel and Orion, now and forever the Queen and King in the Woods.

Title: King in the Woods
Subtitle: Many Voices, One Will
Regions to trigger: Vaul's Anvil
Description:

Though Orion’s nature is always infused by Kurnous’ joy of the hunt, his temperament can differ greatly from one year to the next. Whilst Ariel and Isha have long been one and the same, their desires merged into a single whole, Orion’s personality is a melding not only of Kurnous and the chosen one, but of every Elf who has borne the mantle of kingship since the very beginning. These older minds are faint, and seldom influence Orion’s actions directly, but still their voices whisper through his thoughts. At times, they offer advice, at others they admonish and berate. Kurnous is the strongest voice of all, and the only one that can actively supplant the chosen one’s wishes.

Though the Hunter God’s personality has been eroded through the continual cycle of death and rebirth, his legacy of primal power and divine wisdom is still great beyond mortal reckoning. Such is the reason that the chosen one must be strong of will, for he must strive with the spirit of Kurnous and dominate the other spirits in his if he is not to be driven mad. It is a heavy burden, and one that grows greater with each passing year, for every cycle of rebirth adds a new voice to the choir. On occasion, a chosen one will falter in his purpose, and in those years Orion’s boundless power is held by a splintered and fractious mind. Wise or mad, noble or haunted, each incarnation of Orion must end the same way: in the flames of the midwinter pyre.

Title: King in the Woods
Subtitle: Choosing the Avatar
Regions to trigger: Waterfall Palace
Description:

The rituals of the chosen one’s selection are kept carefully hidden, for there are always those who wish to subvert the process for their own reasons. At various times, both the Elves of Ulthuan and Naggaroth have sought to interfere in Orion’s rebirth, each party hoping to steer the Wood Elves in a direction to their liking. Nor, alas, are the folk of Athel Loren themselves entirely immune to the lure of interference. Despite the sacrifice that the act of Orion’s rebirth calls for, many a noble family would be only too glad to see a member of their kin elevated to the position of Ariel’s consort, though it be only for a year.

In fact, some of the more ambitious lords see the time of the choosing as having the potential for a double victory: that of basking in the reflected glory of a relative’s selection, and of no longer having to compete with that relative for further honours. Few Elves would admit to such a sentiment out loud, of course, because Athel Loren society considers itself to aspire to better than such intrigues, but the truth of the matter lies plain behind many eyes, if one knows only how to look for it.

Title: King in the Woods
Subtitle: The Slaughter at Quenelles
Regions to trigger: Quenelles
Description:

One spring, many ages past, Orion was reborn into madness, infecting other Elves and forest spirits with contagious insanity and growing the Wild Hunt to four times the normal size. Wreaking havoc even before it left Athel Loren, the Wild Hunt surged into Bretonnia with great slaughter, attacking Quenelles, killing its Duke and breaching its walls. Orion was only stopped when the Lady of the Lake personally intervened in a sacred grove at the heart of the city. The slaughter ended at once, and Orion returned to Athel Loren, surrendering himself to the pyre many months earlier than usual without explanation.

Title: King in the Woods
Subtitle: The Silverspire
Regions to trigger: Parravon
Description:

Morghur was reborn in the lands west of Athel Loren, and was drawn to the Silverspire as he had in years past. Again, the Wood Elves marched to thwart Morghur’s advance. This time, however, they had allies in the struggle against the Corruptor. Since last the Elves had striven with Morghur, the rough humans of the western lands had united under the banner of a mighty champion. The Silverspire was sacred ground to these primitives, and they too now mustered to its defence. It would have gone ill for the humans had Orion led this Wood Elf host, for the King in the Woods had little fondness for such humans. As it was, the midwinter snows laid heavy on Athel Loren; Orion was naught but a memory and a hope, so cooler heads than his prevailed and an alliance was struck. Together, Men and Elves cleansed the land of Morghur’s taint.

Many years later, that champion’s son, Louis the Rash, braved the perils of Athel Loren in the hope of forging a lasting accord between the Elves and the kingdom his father had founded. Orion, reborn as hot-tempered as usual, had not looked favourably on the supplication, but Ariel overruled her consort in the matter. The Mage Queen knew that whilst the spirit of the Silverspire endured, it would distract Morghur from feasting upon Athel Loren, and how better to ensure the spirit endured than to ensure that its human protectors thrived?

Thus began a tumultuous friendship between the ancient realm of Athel Loren and the nascent kingdom of Bretonnia, the former using the latter mostly as their shield against their more enduring foes. Orion was displeased, and vocally so. He would not, he said, hold back the fury of the Wild Hunt in service to his queen’s whim. Ariel had simply smiled and bade her husband ride wheresoever he wished; if the lands he chose were those claimed by the Bretonnians, so much the better. Common cause had brought friendship, but it was only good sense that the humans should fear their superiors.

Title: King in the Woods
Subtitle: Misguided Vengeance
Regions to trigger: Ellyrion – Tor Elyr
Description:

During the Season of Retribution Morathi's machinations had cost the life of Ariel's sister, Allisara. Morathi dared not act directly, and had instead charmed Prince Valedor, a disgraced prince of Ulthuan, who dealt the killing blow. Ariel was determined to discover the identity of those responsible for her sister's death, and bent all the energies of Athel Loren's seers to the task.

The Mage Queen restored a portion of Athel Loren's worldroots, and Orion used these pathways to loose a great host of war upon Ellyrion, the land of Prince Valedor's birth. The folk of Ellyrion were slow to respond. Kurnos had ever been the chief deity of their land, and they were slow to raise weapons against he who wore his aspect. Their hesitation was to cost them dearly. That summer, the plains of Ellyrion ran red with the blood of its people. Finally, even Orion could find no joy in this work; it was no hunt, but a slaughter.

This would surely have brought Orion to quarrel with his queen, had not Ariel finally shattered Morathi's enchantments, revealing at last the Hag Sorceress and her wicked schemes.

Title: King in the Woods
Subtitle: Morathi Humiliated
Regions to trigger: The Chill Road - Ghrond
Description:

During the Season of Retribution Morathi's machinations had cost the life of Ariel's sister, Allisara, who had been the Witch King's wife. When Ariel discovered this, the Wood Elves carried their vengeance into the bleak pine forests of Naggaroth. They had no desire to tarry in that land, for its woods were bitter and lifeless things, and the chill air sapped the heart of even the cruellest of Dryads.

They soon brought Morathi's fortress of Ghrond under siege. The Tower of Prophecy's defences had been brought to guard against attack from the frozen north, not one that had emerged from the forests of its own heartlands, and its outer walls soon shattered under the fists of Treemen. Desperate, Morathi sent messengers south to request aid from her son. Alas, for the Hag Sorceress, Malekith had long since learned of his mother's role in Allisara's death. Though the Witch King had publicly forgiven Morathi her transgression, he now saw an opportunity to bring her to heel, and it was with grim amusement that he forbade any aid be sent north.

Finally, and at the cost of many thousands of lives, the Wood Elves breached Ghrond’s inner citadel. Cornered and desperate, Morathi fell back upon deceit. Abasing herself before Ariel and Orion, she made great show of repentance. Orion wanted the business done with, and would have taken Morathi’s heart had Ariel given leave. Yet the Hag Sorceress had tasted the sorceries which Ariel had woven about herself, and now Morathi’s serpentine tongue offered deeper insight into dark lore, if only Ariel would spare her life.

At the last, Ariel relented and accepted Morathi’s bargain; after all, without the power of sorcery, she would never have been able to restore the long-sundered worldroots, nor overthrow Morathi’s dark citadel. Ariel should not have accepted that bargain. Indeed, the Mage Queen would not have accepted it had her soul not been shadowed by the sorceries she had already employed, but the lure of power was upon her. So was Morathi allowed to live, and begin the slow process of remaking her ravaged fortress.

Upon their return to Athel Loren, Ariel and Orion quarrelled greatly about the deal that had been struck. Legends tell how their arguments raged for days without meeting resolution, and of how that year the normally glorious autumn months were marred by icy cold. Next spring, the unthinkable happened — Orion was not reborn. The Wild Riders brought their supplicant to the Oak of Ages, but Ariel sent them away without explanation. It would be many years before Orion was to return to the world, and great tragedy befell the Asrai in that dark time.


Title: Oakheart Through The Ages
Subtitle: The Elves of Ulthuan
Regions to trigger: Avelorn - Tor Saroir
Description:

The Oak of Ages had spread its roots across many lands, creating a web of worldroots that the spirits of the wood could traverse to reach faraway places. So did the great forest first discover the summerlands of Avelorn, and encounter the elves of Ulthuan. No race grew closer to the spirits of the great forest than the elves, who in their innocence, marvelled at its wondrous nature, and whispered with its ancient spirits so that they might learn their secrets. One of the spirits in particular, Durthu,or Oakheart, as the elves named him, grew fond of Avelorn’s folk, in particular of their Everqueen, Astarielle.

Soon, he consented to teach them how to shape the trees without harming branch or bough, and blessed them with many other secrets his kind possessed. For a short time thereafter, Avelorn knew a golden age that would eclipse any that followed. Under the combined stewardship of elves and forest spirits, the woods and meadows blossomed into incredible life. Many of the great forest’s spirits forsook their home for Avelorn’s paradise, for they were determined to awaken those trees as they themselves had been awakened. Yet, though Avelorn became ever more wondrous and beautiful, its trees remained silent.

Title: Oakheart Through The Ages
Subtitle: Astarielle's Plea
Regions to trigger: Averlorn – Gaean Vale
Description:

With the collapse of the great polar gates, Chaos swept across the world. Everywhere, civilisations burned and madness overtook order. Ulthuan suffered greater than any other land, for many amongst the daemonic host thirsted for Elven souls above all others.

As Avelorn burned, Durthu and his kind fought alongside the Elves - they could have fled back to the great forest, but chose to stand with their allies. Many were destroyed, others were driven mad with despair, yet still the spirits of the forest battled on. But Avelorn could neither be saved by valour nor by strength of arms. Hour by hour, the Elves and spirits were driven deeper into their heartlands, until finally there was nowhere left to retreat to.

It was late on that last day that Astarielle, the Everqueen, came to Durthu with a desperate request: that he rescue her children from the coming doom. For a time, Durthu stood silent, as the forest burned around them, the tears and pleas of his petitioner seemingly unheeded. To carry blooded creatures along the Oak of Ages’ worldroots would no doubt be seen as a dire transgression, and he was minded not to invoke the wrath of his peers. Yet in his time in Avelorn, Durthu had seen how the Elves and forest spirits had been far stronger and wiser together than they had been apart — if either survived the darkness, that strength would surely serve the great forest well in whatever world followed.

So it was that when Durthu spoke again, he agreed to Astarielle’s request. But, he cautioned, there would be a price to pay. If he saved the Everqueen’s offspring, the great forest would one day claim many Elves as its own, so that they might serve and protect it as they had tended the land of Avelorn. Was the Everqueen, he asked, prepared to sacrifice the future to preserve the present? Now it was Astarielle’s turn to fall silent, for there was something ominous in Durthu’s tone. Yet she had little choice - if Yvraine died, the line of the Everqueen would die with her, and the Elves would soon after fade forever.

Title: Oakheart Through The Ages
Subtitle: Lord Daith
Regions to trigger: Vaul's Anvil
Description:

Lord Daith, most celebrated of all the Elven smiths, is the master of this grove, and has been for as long as any Elf can recall. Indeed, some whisper that Daith is older even than Ariel and Orion, that he fled Ulthuan with the first colonists; others claim that it was he who forged Aenarion's Dragon armour, and, of course, it is no secret he forged Durthu's mighty sword. For such to be true, Daith would have to be many thousands of years old – something that would be considered near-impossible in any realm other than timeless Athel Loren.

If Daith is truly as old as the rumours tell, he bears little of his great age, for his aspect is that of an Elf in his middle-years. He is blind, and has been so long as any have known him, but none of this slows his craftsmanship at the forge. He performs his works by touch, and by the way hot metal changes the taste of the air. Nor does his lack of vision still his tongue, which is just as fiery as his forge.

Title: Oakheart Through The Ages
Subtitle: The Sundering
Regions to trigger: The Vaults – Kharak Bhufdar
Description:

Far away, an age of tragedy was dawning. Malekith, son of Aenarion, sought to claim the Phoenix Throne by force and, in so doing, split the Elven race forever. No longer was there one race of Elves — now there were the Dark Elves loyal to the traitor Malekith, and the High Elves who were true to the Phoenix Throne. Ulthuan was torn apart in the battles that followed and, by the time Malekith led his defeated followers to the chill land of Naggaroth, the shattered nation was but a shadow of its former self.

Never again would the High Elves know peace. On those rare occasions when they were not locked in vendetta with their hated cousins, their colossal arrogance sparked conflict elsewhere, chiefly with the dwarfs of the mountains. Many colonies were drawn into these fruitless campaigns, but the elves of Athel Loren refused to become involved. When Phoenix King Caradryel finally gave the order that all loyal folk of Ulthuan should abandon their colonies and return home, only the elves of Athel Loren refused, and they soon declared their independence from the Phoenix Throne.

As the High Elves withdrew westward, the Dwarfs advanced. As the first snows of winter began to fall, the vengeful children of the mountains descended upon Athel Loren, hacking and burning. This callous action drove the forest into a fury, but its spirits had ever been sluggish during the months of frost. The dryads were soon scattered or slain, and Durthu, the only ancient not yet at slumber, was wounded near to death by keen dwarfen axes.

Title: Oakheart Through The Ages
Subtitle: A Mortal's Account
Regions to trigger: Parravon
Description:

“At the foot of the mountains, we came upon an encampment of Beastmen greater than any I had ever seen. While I had a company of over a hundred, we were outnumbered by at least ten to one. Still I chose to give the order to charge, knowing that it would be my last. As I prepared to lift my voice, I heard the clarion calls of silvery horns echoing down the mountainsides. To my wonderment, the woods began to move, as if they were marching in time to the horns.

As the trees reached the Beastmen’s hastily assembled lines, massive forms rose up out of them, looking for all the world like trees that were playing at being men. At their feet ran lithe maidens who changed before our eyes into howling daemons that tore into the Chaos horde before shifting back to laughing girls once more. My men looked to me, to see what my reaction was going to be. My thoughts were lost when I noticed a large group of Beastmen lighting torches. I gestured towards them calling ‘There, the ones who seek to set the wood ablaze,’ and charged.

We took the Beastmen, unaware, from behind, and we were victorious. As the battle was ending, one of the largest of the tree men walked forward, casually stomping still struggling Beastmen as he strode towards me. His eyes were the size of bucklers, but I detected no malice in them and he seemed to regard me with interest. We studied one another for a time, till at last he spoke. His voice was like the creaking of an old house laced with the burbling of a stream.

‘Well met, sir knight. Thank you for removing the flame bearers. They may have been... difficult to manage.’

I thanked him in turn for destroying the Chaos troops.

‘Harrumph. Despoilers. Foul creatures. Unnatural they are, not part of the turnings of the wood at all.’

He gestured north with a long wooden arm.

‘An hour’s journey, a camp of the Bright Ones, whom you call Wood Elves. Tell them you come with Durthu’s blessing. Food and safe rest for you and your men.’

He turned and walked away almost as fast as a horse can run, his long strides swiftly carrying him into the shadows of the trees. A storyteller later told me that I had been granted the rare privilege of meeting one of the legendary Treemen of Athel Loren and surviving to tell the tale. By Sigmar, those were interesting times.”

– Roland Calthract, Grand Master of the Order of the Broken Shield, taken from Tales of the Great War Against Chaos


Title: The Sands of Time
Subtitle: The Awakening of Settra
Regions to trigger: Khemri
Description:

Following Nagash's Great Ritual, civil war threatened to destroy Nehekhara as the newly awoken Tomb Kings fought amongst each other for supremacy. Khatep therefore took it upon himself to restore order. As king smote king, he broke the magical seals of the Grand Pyramid of Khemri - seals so powerful that not even Nagash's ritual could penetrate them – and began to recite the incantation of awakening.

At the end of the mighty incantation Settra arose and smote any who opposed him. Before long all bowed their heads to Settra, and though he once more sat upon the throne of Khemri, his wrath was great. Settra was angry foremost with the Mortuary Cult, believing they had whispered lies about the extent of their powers. In his fury, he exiled Khatep from Khemri and forbade him to set foot within any of the great cities until such time as he could fulfil the Mortuary Cult's ancient promise and reinstate the golden age of Nehekhara.

Khatep stared up at the Grand Pyramid with trepidation. He had waited so long for this moment. But would Settra accept him now, after all he had accomplished in his exile?

Title: The Sands of Time
Subtitle: The Saviour of Mahrak
Regions to trigger: Fallen Gates
Description:

Khatep surveyed the lush jungle before him, sneering with contempt. He expected heavy resistance from Lizardmen hosts in the coming months. But he had defeated them before, and he would do so again.

When King Dhekesh of Mahrak battled with the reptiles in the Southlands, their ferocity had proved too great for his skeletal legions. As reptilian soldiers smashed through ranks of Skeletons, and towering war statues were hewn by powerful magics, Mahrak stood on the brink of destruction. Then, through a whirling cloud of dust a single figure appeared, and he intoned a single word that silenced the sorceries of the enemy.

This stooped being then raised his copper staff, and across the battlefield the broken bones of thousands of fallen Skeletons were whole again. The Lizardmen found themselves surrounded and outnumbered, and the sands were soon awash with their blood. Before King Dhekesh could greet the mysterious stranger, he had vanished back into the dust-storm.

This and a hundred other tales have been attributed to Grand Hierophant Khatep, the Liche Lord of Khemri.

Title: The Serpent Queen Saga
Subtitle: Family Becomes Foe
Regions to trigger: Lahmia (ME), The Dust Gate (VOR)
Description:

During a great celebratory feast Khalida's cousin, Neferata, the sensuously beautiful and alluring Queen of Lahmia, had falsely accused Khalida of treason and attempts of assassination, and proclaimed these allegations loudly during a banquet feast. Khalida had risen to defend her honour, and in her anger had refused to nominate a champion, accepting the challenge personally. Neferata desired the death of Khalida, for the Warrior-Queen had grown suspicious of Neferata and her Lahmian court. Indeed Khalida was right to be suspicious, for Neferata had been studying the blasphemous texts of the Great Necromancer Nagash, and had drunk from the cursed Elixir of Life - she had been reborn into a cursed existence, becoming the first of the vampires, and if Khalida was not silenced then the Lahmians' deadly secret would become known.

The two women fought before the shocked nobility, their blades weaving a delicate and deadly dance. Khalida was a skilled and powerful warrior, and yet she could not match the preternatural speed or unholy strength of Neferata. As she lay on the tiled floor, her blood flowing from a terrible wound in her stomach, Neferata sunk her sharp teeth into Khalida's neck, sucking deeply. Biting hard on her own tongue, the Queen of Lahmia placed her lips over Khalida's, and her vampire blood flowed down the dying Queen's throat.

As the life began to leave her dying body, Khalida knew that the cursed blood now flowed through her veins. In desperation, she cried out to the gods to save her from the same abominable fate that had taken hold of Neferata. Asaph, the Goddess of the Asp, heard her pleas and appeared to the dying Queen in a divine vision. The blessing of the Goddess purified the vampiric taint from Khalida's veins, though it drained the remaining life from her. In sorrow, she was borne back to Lybaras, where she was embalmed and placed within a specially made reliquary within the temple of the blessed Asp. So ended the reign of High Queen Khalida Neferher, the Lioness of the Hills.

Title: The Serpent Queen Saga
Subtitle: The Great Ritual
Regions to trigger: Mahrak (ME), The Golden Colossus (VOR)
Description:

Nagash's final and most devastating work, known as The Great Ritual, was intended to be the final act of revenge against the people of Nehekhara. Had it succeeded, all the peoples of Nehekhara, even in death, would have been bound in servitude to him alone. Fortunately, the ritual was disrupted when Alcadizzar, the last living king of Khemri, slew Nagash with the dread Fellblade. All in Nehekhara were slain by the magical backlash as the ritual unravelled, yet all too were raised into undeath, as the ritual had partly succeeded. Thus would Nehekhara forever be known simply as the Land of the Dead, and the War of the Kings began.

King fought against king, ancestors fought against descendants, each claiming their rule was supeme. Massive skeletal legions, buried alive with their kings at the time of their death, now rose to fight for the kings in death. Only Settra remained dormant, as his pyramid, the greatest in all of Nehekhara, had wardings so powerful not even Nagash's ritual could penetrate them.

In the temple of the Asp Khalida rose from her seated position and commanded the doors to open with a delicate motion of her hand. Her famed archer legions, buried in vast tomb pits besides the temple, arose at her bidding to march alongside the immortal Warrior-Queen as they did in life. She quickly dominated the warring kings in her city of Lybaras, and when Settra was finally awakened by Khatep, she did not fight against his rulership, as did many others, because she had no desire to rule this now dead land. She had but one goal: revenge.

Neferata would pay for what she had done.

Title: The King of Kings
Subtitle: The Great Obelisk of Khemri
Regions to trigger: Khemri
Description:

Settra stopped to read the words inscribed upon the Great Obelisk, words he had spoken so many years ago...

"Hail to the mighty Tomb Guard who stand before me, you who will stand watch over me for all eternity. For I, Settra, Lord and first Priest king of Khemri, will awaken to command you in the paradise that awaits us. Hail to the Ushabti and Sphinx who stand sentinel beside the monuments of the king. Hail to the commanders of my army, leading forth your regiments to join me in eternity. Hail to the warriors of my legions; make ready your weapons to fill the air with the sound of your worship. Your standards are pleasing to my sight and that of the Gods. See how the light of Phtra shines upon them.

Remember them gleaming this day, as you enter the darkness of the tomb. Fear not what we must do, for we are the glory of Khemri and we shall rise again to fulfil our manifest destiny of ruling this world. There are great deeds that remain undone, enemies yet to conquer and raptures yet to rejoice in. So, as it is written, so shall it be done. I, Settra, have proclaimed it - let none dare oppose my will!"

Title: The King of Kings
Subtitle: The Founding of the Mortuary Cult
Regions to trigger: Pools of Despair (ME), The Salt Plain (VOR)
Description:

In the fortieth year of his reign, with his body beginning to show the first signs of old age and frailty, Settra stood in the peaks of the Black Mountains, upon the very edge of his empire, and surveyed all that he had conquered. He then turned and gazed upon the distant lands that lay on the other side of the mountain and roared in anger. It was with bitter disappointment that Settra realised that even if he were to live a hundred years, there would still be realms beyond his grasp.

Settra simmered with rage, for he knew that one day he would be defeated, not by a mortal foe, nor by any superior army, but by the cruel passage of time and his own mortality. Settra knew that his dreams of global conquest were unreachable in his mortal lifespan, and though the fires of ambition burned brightly within his heart, his body would wither and fail him before he could see his vision fulfilled. Worse, Settra knew that death might rob him of all he had achieved in his lands, his people and his power. He vowed that the grave would not claim him, and set in motion events that would forever change his kingdom by founding the Mortuary Cult.

Title: The King of Kings
Subtitle: The Quest for Immortality
Regions to trigger: Springs of Eternal Life
Description:

For years the priests of the Mortuary Cult brewed potions, recited incantations and travelled into unknown lands in search of the secret to overcome death. In their research, the priests learned much, and they used their powers to extend Settra's life far beyond its natural span. However, they could not halt the passage of time indefinitely, they were merely postponing the inevitable while their lord's mortal body became ever more frail. The priests of the Mortuary Cult were naturally reluctant to reveal these limitations to Settra, whose wrath was legendary, and continued to search in vain for a way to accomplish this impossible task.

The priests journeyed for many years throughout the world. They studied all aspects of death, and over the years they learned much, and their powers grew. Using their arcane knowledge, they also extended their own lives. They learned how to preserve a corpse from decay, until the art of mummification had become tuned to perfection. With the passing of the years, the hierophants of the Mortuary Cult had even begun to experiment with harnessing the Winds of Magic.

Though they made incredible progress, it was to no avail; true immortality lay beyond their power. Great was Settra's wrath, for though the priests' magic kept him alive far beyond the span of any mortal Man, they could not prevent his death. However, the Mortuary Cult devised a vast lore of magical incantations and rituals, which they claim could bridge the gap between the mortal world and the Realm of Souls. They believed that with careful preparation and the proper incantations, it might be possible for the dead to return to life in imperishable bodies, though it may take many centuries to perfect and perform the necessary rituals.

Left with no other choice, Settra commanded that a vast burial tomb be constructed for his body to rest within until the Mortuary Cult finished their work and he could be reborn into the eternal existence he so craved.

Title: The King of Kings
Subtitle: The Death of Settra
Regions to trigger: Zandri
Description:

As Settra lay dying of old age, full of anger, spite and pride to his very last breath, the priests of the Mortuary Cult promised him a golden paradise that, upon his awakening, he would rule for millions of years. When the King perished at last, it was with a final curse upon his lips. Powerful incantations were intoned over his corpse and he was embalmed in a great ritual. Preserved against decay, his body was entombed within a mighty sarcophagus in the heart of the majestic pyramid of shining white stone. The monument was so bright that it hurt the mortal eyes just to look at it. The pyramid was vast and it towered over the city of Khemri. It was the largest and most magnificent monument ever created in Nehekhara, for no simple cairn would befit a king as mighty and powerful as Settra.

All of his treasures, along with his most loyal servants and bodyguards, were also interred within his pyramid. Settra's mighty legions, which had carved out his realm at his behest, were arrayed deep beneath it in colossal tomb pits. Loyal even unto death, these soldiers were buried alive in preparation for the Day of Awakening when Settra would arise and lead them to war once more. At the head of the funeral procession strode Nekaph, Settra's most loyal servant, mummified at the right-hand side of his beloved king, in order to serve him in the next life.

For thousands of year afterwards, the priests of Khemri tended the funeral flames outside the sealed tomb, nurturing Settra's immortal spirit with sacrifice and incantations in preparation for the Day of Awakening. No tomb before or since has ever had such powerful hieroglyphs of warding and incantations of protection heaped upon it. During this time, the priests of the Mortuary Cult continued to develop their understanding of magical incantations in the hopes of finally unlocking the secrets of immortality and of bringing about the time of Settra's resurrection.


Title: The King of Kings
Subtitle: The War of Kings
Regions to trigger: Numas
Description:

After Nagash's ritual every dead being in Nehekhara arose, peasant and king alike. There had been countless kings during the country's long history. The fires of ambition and pride that had driven them in life still resided in their ancient bodies, and they instantly sought out to reclaim their empires as best they could. Kings who were great and powerful in life, who had reigned unchallenged for centuries, now awoke from death in a land where they were but one amongst hundreds. All believed the right to rule the land was solely theirs, and none would relinquish their perceived power. Dynasties that were built upon the shoulders of more powerful monarchs were forced to confront their founders, and there were long battles in the necropolises as king fought king. Undying legions arose at their command, and many tens of thousands of Skeleton Warriors were destroyed as the Undead Tomb Kings struggled for supremacy.

Of all the tombs and pyramids, only one remained silent and untouched by the fighting — the Great Pyramid of Settra the Imperishable. The wards heaped on the white burial monument had protected the mummified corpse of Settra from Nagash's tainted sorcery, and its occupants still slumbered in the sleep of death, oblivious to the turmoil of battle taking place outside the pyramid walls. As the battles raged, the Liche Priests looked on. Their bodies, already extended far beyond their natural span, were unaffected by Nagash's spell. They had survived the rise and fall of Nagash, whose sorcerous power they could not match, but it looked like the warring Tomb Kings were going to destroy what remained of Nehekhara. The head of the Mortuary Cult, Grand Hierophant Khatep, oldest and wisest of the Liche Priests, took it upon himself to restore order. As king smote king, Khatep broke the seals to Settra's pyramid and began to recite the incantation of awakening.

Title: The King of Kings
Subtitle: Settra's Awakening
Regions to trigger: Quatar
Description:

After Nagash's ritual, Tomb kings all across Nehekera fought each other for supremacy. In Khemri, the battles between rival kings lasted for days before the tomb of Settra opened, and the mightiest of all the kings of Nehekhara strode out into the blazing sunlight at the head of thousands of his warriors. In undeath, Settra hungered for the domination of his fellow Tomb Kings, and he would suffer no rival to his rule.

Settra waded into the carnage. His Herald, Nekaph, stood as ever by his side. Together, they led Settra's elite Tomb Guard and quickly carved a path through the rival Skeleton legions. Settra struck down dozens of lesser Tomb Kings who stood against him, powdering their bones to dust and destroying them utterly. Not even Arkhan the Black, with his command of dark sorcery, could prevail against Settra's strength of arms, and he was forced to flee Khemri. Before long, all the Tomb Kings bowed their heads to Settra the Imperishable — the undisputed ruler of all Nehekhara.


Title: The King of Kings
Subtitle: Appeasing the Gods
Regions to trigger: Bhagar
Description:

Of all the kings of Nehekhara, none could match the splendour, cruelty and arrogance of Settra, the newly crowned king of Khemri. He was a vain and egotistical man, and demanded not only the obedience, but also the adoration of his subjects. However, Settra was no fool. And when he listened to his priests he realised that only a leader who could command the respect of the gods would earn the full adulation of the people.

To this end, Settra, alone amongst all the kings of Nehekhara, paid homage to the ancient gods; early in his reign he ordered the restoration of temples and erected many magnificent statues to be built in their honour.

On the first anniversary of his coronation, Settra beseeched the gods to restore Khemri to its former glory and grant him the strength to conquer his rivals, sacrificing his own children in a grand ritual to show his commitment and prove his worth. The next day, the Great Vitae River flooded for the first time in several decades. With the waters, disease was washed away from Khemri and the crop harvest was plentiful for the first time in living memory. This was seen as a sign by both the Nehekharan priesthood and the populace of Khemri that Settra was indeed chosen by the gods.

So it was that Settra became the first Priest King of Khemri, a ruler who commanded not only the unswerving loyalty of his people and his legions, but who also wielded the power of the gods.

Title: Tales from the Master of Skies
Subtitle: Hexoatl Encircled
Regions to trigger: Hexoatl
Description:

From the jungles north of Hexoatl came a vast army, a force composed of thousands of mortal servants of Chaos. A mercenary throng of Dark Elves from Naggaroth led them, acting as scouts for the hordes from the north. With the sentinel stones not functioning, the Chaos armies marched undetected into Lustria. It was Hexoatl's Master of Skies, Tiktaq'to, who first sighted the invaders. Atop his Terradon, he swiftly sent word to Hexoatl but, to his dismay, Lord Mazdamundi was absent; secreted atop a jungle ruin contemplating the recently discovered plaques. All of the other Mage-Priests were in trances and would not awake for days.

Assuming command of the army of Hexoatl, Tiktaq'to set to the city's defence before leading a series of hit and run attacks to slow the foe down. For three days and nights, Tiktaq'to and his aerial army of Terradon Riders harried the approaching advance. They struck from above, launched counter-attacks and dropped boulders to crash into marching columns. On the fourth day, with his enemy seething with rage and seeking an opportunity to swat the irritating nuisance, Tiktaq'to lured many tribes of barbarian horsemen and Naggarothi cavalry into the Bloodleech swamp, where they were cut down by ambush. Despite the losses, the Chaos forces advanced to dominate all approaches to Hexoatl...

Title: Tales from the Master of Skies
Subtitle: The Siege of Hexoatl
Regions to trigger: Hexoatl
Description:

From the jungles north of Hexoatl came a vast army, a force composed of thousands of mortal servants of Chaos. As the forces of chaos and order began to clash in earnest, several of the younger Slann awoke and terrible blasts of sorcerous power rent the skies asunder. Although the Saurus fought with cold-blooded discipline, they were driven backwards until the Chaos host was at the gates of the temple-city, and the siege of Hexoatl began.

While Chaos Sorcerers and Slann lit the air with mystic duels, Vashnaar the Tormentor, leader of the chaos forces, ordered up batteries of war machines the like of which had never been seen in Lustria. All gears, cogs and vast rune-etched barrels, they were siege engines twisted to contain the tortured souls of Daemons. Their fire was fury made manifest, and they rained blazing hellshot to smash apart the stone blocks of Hexoatl's walls, creating gaping holes. Into those breaches, Vashnaar ordered his heavily armoured warriors, the elite killers of his army. In their vanguard raced mutated behemoths, muscle-bound monsters made of teeth and rage.

Time and again, the defenders of Hexoatl repulsed the Chaos attacks at the walls. From the jungles came aerial assaults led by Tiktaq'to, and the wings of his airborne assaults blotted out the sun. Many of the foes' war machines were smashed, but after two cycles of the moon had passed, the battle was still ongoing, and it could only be a matter of time before the forces of Chaos entered the city. However, on the sixty-third day of the siege, everything changed...

Title: The Last Defender Eternal / Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: The Siege of Hexoatl
Regions to trigger: Hexoatl
Description:

In the year 2522 IC Hexoatl was besieged by a massive Chaos force, led by Vashnaar the Tormentor. Despite multiple stalling attempts by Tiktaq'to the city was on the verge of destruction. But on the sixty-third day of the siege, everything changed...

As the sun rose over the margin of the world, a Saurian roar came from the mist-wreathed jungle. The forces of Chaos stood dumbfounded as they sought the source of this bellow, and the earth began to shake under a heavy tread. The jungle itself erupted; a mighty Carnosaur led the surge, Kroq-Gar, the great Saurus war-leader on its back, and behind him came an army of Cold One cavalry. To meet this new threat, Vashnaar the Tormentor mounted his Dragon and charged. Yet Kroq-Gar's army was not alone.

Gathering the might of Lustria about him, in an army whose power had not been seen since the Great Catastrophe, came Lord Mazdamundi. He rode upon a Stegadon so large that the jungle parted in its wake. The ancient judgment of the Old Ones burned in the Slann's eyes, and at his command, the earth was rent, a gap that swallowed half of the Chaos host before the true battle began. And what a battle it was – Kroq-Gar and Vashnaar were locked in combat, each the equal of the other. Reptilian titans of an elder age clashed with the monstrosities of the north. With a blaring of war horns, the gates of Hexoatl were flung open and the defenders sallied forth to join the fray. Steel-clad barbarians crashed into the scaled Saurus warriors and the carnage was total.

By dusk, Lord Mazdamundi and Kroq-Gar stood upon the battlefield and surveyed their victory. The jungle was flattened in a twenty-mile ring and the dead lay in mountainous piles. Vashnaar's severed head hung from Kroq-Gar's saddle and the hooves of Mazdamundi's Stegadon were crimson with blood. The forces of Chaos had been defeated, and Hexoatl was saved.

Title: Tales from the Master of Skies
Subtitle: The Warboss Who Flew
Regions to trigger: Spektazuma
Description:

Tiqtaq'to flew high above the jungle canopy on his Terradon mount, Zwup. Glancing down below, he recognised the region from days past. He chirped happily as he recalled breaking the Blue Viper Savage Orc tribe by commanding Zwup to snatch up their Warboss. The Orcs below had howled with rage to see their commander lifted thousands of feet into the air only to be let go. The unfortunate warmblood's high-pitched screaming and indignant death had utterly broken the tribe’s will to fight, and they scattered before Tiqtaq'to's sky host, lest they suffer the same fate.

Tiqtaq'to breathed deep, basking in the sun's warm glow, and urged Zwup onward through the clouds.

Title: Tales from the Master of Skies
Subtitle: Visions of the End Times
Regions to trigger: Huahuan Desert (Chamber of Visions)
Description:

From out of the midday sun came the air cohorts of Tiktaq'to, Hexoatl's Master of Skies. They had soared on thermals, but now folded their great wings and hurtled downwards. The Terradons pulled out of their dive, stretching out their long wings to fly along the stone canyons made by the mountainous pyramid-temples. As one, the Sky Cohort dropped their heavy stone weights before veering upwards once again. The Skaven were packed into the avenues below and the stones crashed amongst them, sending up showers of stone splinters, broken flagstones, and bits of splattered ratmen.

A flock of Ripperdactyls plowed into the seething mass below, yet only a handful took wing again, the rest unable to disentangle themselves in time before being cut to shreds by dozens of Skaven blades. One of the Ripperdactyls, though successfully airborne, was covered in the vermin, who were stabbing and biting with glee.

Tiktaq'to manoeuvred Zwup alongside the desperate beast and then nimbly jumped onto its back, drawing his Blade of the Ancient Skies. Skaven toppled from the Ripperdactyl to splatter on the streets of Itza below as the Master of Skies exacted a bloody toll with his serrated blade. Only when the last Skaven had fallen out of the sky, blood spurting from its severed arm, did Tiktaq'to return to his Terradon mount.

It was at this moment he noticed the Obelisk of the Silver Stars was pulsing with strange light, and was levitating higher and higher off the ground. An urgent mental command flooded his thoughts, “Inside – now!” He urged Zwup towards the Obelisk, which was getting higher and higher. They weren't going to make it.

Suddenly, his Mask of Heavens began to burn uncontrollably. Tiktaq'to wrenched it from his head, freeing himself from the unbearable heat. Barely a heartbeat later Zwup had thrown him from her back and caught him in her talons, the mask slipping from his grip. He scarcely had time to register the betrayal before Zwup flared her wings and unclenched her talons. Tiqtaq'to soared uncontrollably through the air, chittering in terror, before he tumbled onto the Obelisk's balcony. Zwup had saved him.

Tiktaq'to ran to the balcony's edge and desperately, uselessly reached out for his loyal mount, rapidly receding beneath him as the Obelisk climbed higher and higher into the clouds.

Title: Tales from the Master of Skies
Subtitle: Zwup
Regions to trigger: Oyxl
Description:

Tiktaq'to took the Mask of Heavens from his brow and laid it on the jungle floor beside him. When visiting the Shrine of Birds he thought it best to let Zwup mingle with others of his kind freely, without their thoughts entwined. High above him flocked hundreds of Terradons and Ripperdactyls, basking in the glow of the sun and the radiance of the Old Ones. During moments such as these it was easy to forget that the Lizardmen were beset on all sides by meddlesome warmbloods and agents of Chaos.

A fellow Skink approached him, and Tiktaq'to jumped to his feet. It was none other than Ten-zlati, the Oracle of Lord Kroak. He bowed deeply. No Skink was more revered, save for perhaps Tetto'eko, as Ten-zlati had spirit-melded with the Venerable Lord Kroak and now served as his conduit.

“A magnificent beast, is she not?” Ten-zlati said. Tiktaq'to chirped his assent. They both gazed up at the canopy for awhile, marvelling in the elegant aerial manoeuvres of the winged reptiles.

“She served me well for many years.” Ten-zlati continued, not without a hint of melancholy. “Yet the Great Plan is paramount. You will accomplish far greater feats than I ever did with Zwup, the Mage Priests have foreseen it.”

Zwup soared down from the canopy and gently alighted beside them. The two Skink heroes petted the mighty Terradon, savouring this brief moment of peace, knowing it may never come again.

Title: The Last Defender Eternal
Subtitle: Vision of the End Times
Regions to trigger: Chamber of Visions
Description:

Kroq-Gar stepped out from the ruined and withered husk of his Carnosaur steed, Grymloc. Lord Skrolk – the hunched and blind rat grotesque – had slain the beast, causing it to decay instantly. There was great power in the contaminated staff wielded by the plaguelord. It was a stout rod, its iron-capped end connected by thick chain to a ponderously heavy censer. Once more, Skrolk began to whirl it overhead. Cloying fug filled the air, and Kroq-Gar could taste his own blood and bile as he breathed in the vile vapours.

Kroq-Gar realised that the longer the fight wore on, the more the toxic clouds would drain him of life. With that thought, the warleader of the lizardmen stalked forward, encircling his foe. With an unholy speed and vitality for such a diseased and tumour-filled creature, Lord Skrolk moved more quickly. The heavy, spiked censer crashed down. Few things that breathed could survive its fatal touch.

Yet Skrolk had reckoned without the Hand of the Gods. Reaching up with his metallic gauntlet, Kroq-Gar caught and crushed the censer, flattening the orb. The poisonous fumes inside would have slain a full-grown thunderlizard, yet the searing light from within the ancient construct of the Old Ones purified the air. Even in his blindness, Skrolk was struck by the purity of the light – a pain that was nothing compared to the feeling of the Revered Spear of Tlanxla being driven through him.

Lifting the impaled plaguelord above him, Kroq-Gar roared to the heavens. The Last Battle of Itza was far from over, however, and the fate of the world still balanced on a knife-edge.

Title: The Last Defender Eternal
Subtitle: The Fall of Kjell Red Fist
Regions to trigger: Axlotl (River Qurveza)
Description:

The first men of the Old World to penetrate the jungles of Lustria were the seafaring and warlike Norse. One raid occurred in the year 1323 when Kjell Red Fist, a chieftain of the Skaeling people, navigated his longship the length of the River Qurveza in search of the so-called Fount of Origins, a legendary sacred place where Kjell hoped to gain a measure of the power of the ancients.

But Kjell's passage was noted, and stealthy aquatic Skinks dived beneath Kjell's longship as it lay at anchor by moonlight, loosening beams and crippling her rudder. Kjell was faced with the choice of abandoning his voyage, or of continuing on foot. There was only one choice for such a man as he, and he pressed boldly on through the jungle.

Kjell's shaman informed him that the party would need to bear north to reach their destination, and this would necessitate making a river crossing. Taking his seer's counsel, Kjell led his men across a ford, greed overcoming caution as he felt his goal within reach. As the party reached the deepest point, the jungle came alive – deadly poisoned darts rained down upon the Norsemen.

Kjell bellowed in rage and charged across the ford, his remaining warriors following. At that moment, the legendary ancient Scar-leader Kroq-Gar appeared on the bank, flanked by rank upon rank of Cold-One mounted Saurus. In an instant the two were locked in a mighty, though ultimately one-sided duel while their warriors fought and died upon the riverbank. Though Kjell fought with the berserker frenzy of his people, he was laid low by a savage bite from Kroq-Gar's mighty Carnosaur. As the ancient Scar-Veteran held aloft the chieftain's severed head, the Norsemen broke and made to flee back across the river, but were run down by the mounted Saurus before a single warrior reached the opposite bank.

Though the fate of Kjell Red Fist could only be speculated at amongst the battle-hungry Norse, many others have sought to retrace his steps and locate the fabled Fount of Origins. To date, none have made it anywhere near as far upstream as did Kjell. Lord Mazdamundi has decreed that none ever shall again.

Title: The Last Defender Eternal
Subtitle: Containing the Threat
Regions to trigger: Xahutec (Mosquito Swamps)
Description:

Kroq-Gar's Hand of Gods pulsed again and again, searing beams of energy cutting Daemons in half as they swarmed out of the breach. The Last Defender had never seen so many Slann in one place. They were high above him, levitating on their palanquins in a great circle and weaving geomantic magic of untold power.

The portal to the dread Realm of Chaos was beginning to flicker and collapse as the Slanns' magic took effect. Perhaps the City of Echoes would be safe for habitation once more? Just as the portal snapped shut one last Daemon emerged from the breach – a winged Lord of Change. It was flying straight towards the floating Mage-Priests. Kroq-Gar could not allow that.

With one swift motion he let fly his Spear of Tlanxla, which skewered the daemon right through one of its wings. It screeched in pain and spiralled to the earth, slowing its descent with its one good wing. Kroq-Gar dismounted and commanded Grymloc to stay – he knew the Daemon's powers of change and mutation were formidable, and would not allow his Carnosaur to suffer that hideous fate.

He reached the winged being just as it hit the ground, and was swiftly upon it. The Lord of Change raised a hand to fire off some multicoloured spell, but Kroq-Gar's gauntleted hand crushed his foe's, savagely snapping its wrist and nullifying the sorcerous attempt. The enraged Saurus seized the Daemon by the throat and thrust the Hand of Gods deep into its gullet. The ancient artifact illuminated the Lord of Change from within as Kroq-Gar unleashed one searing blast after another, incinerating the screaming creature from the inside out.

Kroq-Gar dropped the smouldering corpse to the ground. The Mage-Priests were safe and the breach was sealed. Surely the Old Ones smiled upon him this day.

Title: The Last Defender Eternal
Subtitle: Grymloc
Regions to trigger: The Golden Tower
Description:

Kroq-Gar remembered the day of his spawning, which coincided with the rearing of a brood of mighty Carnosaurs. Naturally, he had claimed the largest and most ferocious as his own. From that day onwards Kroq-Gar and Grymloc had been an unstoppable terror on the battlefield.

Kroq-Gar was thankful for the many times the Carnosaur had won the day. When Kjell Red Fist had snuck up behind them and tore Kroq-Gar from the saddle, it was Grymloc who laid the Norseman low with a single savage bite. When Daemons of Chaos had manifested behind Kroq-Gar as the magical barriers of Xhotl fell, Grymloc's roar had alerted him to the danger.

The Saurus Oldblood climbed up into the saddle yet again, and urged Grymloc onward. The enemies of the Old Ones were waiting. And the two ageless beings were ready for them.

Title: The Last Defender Eternal
Subtitle: The Rise of Sotek
Regions to trigger: Caverns of Sotek (The Jungles of the Gods) ME: Serpent Coast
Description:

While superstitious acts have gained in popularity since the loss of the Old Ones, these were taken to horrific new levels with the coming of the new god Sotek. Inspired by Tehenhauin, Skink Priests led the ritualistic slaughter of untold thousands of ratmen. These Skaven were sacrificed in horrific fashion - sometimes thrown alive into writhing pits of serpents, other times split open and choice organs proffered to the heavens. If the Skaven was lucky, he was simply beheaded by a Saurus executioner. It is recorded that Kroq-Gar has personally delivered the killing strike to over a thousand Skaven warlords since the Rise of Sotek, sacrificing them to the glory of the Serpent God.

Title: The Last Defender Eternal
Subtitle: Battle of the Umbral Tide
Regions to trigger: Chupayotl (Culchan Plains)
Description:

In 2512 IC, a Dark Elf army emerged from the Black Way to raid coastal ruins. Kroq-Gar and his army drove their tentacled beasts back into the sea and then surprised the raiding army aboard the Umbral Tide, a notorious Black Ark of the Naggaroth fleet, as it retreated through the Black Way.

Beached by powerful spells, the city-sized ship was swarmed over by Skinks, Kroxigor and Salamander Hunting Packs that rose out of the water to clamber aboard. Although the ship’s many towers launched flights of quarrels, the flame-spouts of the Salamanders soon silenced them, save for the cries of the hopelessly burned. Not a single Dark Elf survived and the ship’s massive hull remains, sticking out of the mudbanks, as a skeletal reminder of the fate of those who dare enter Lustria.

Title: Stories of the Serpent's Prophet
Subtitle: The Deliverer of the Ruby Sanctum
Regions to trigger: Xlanhuapec
Description:

Though the Age of Strife was undoubtedly the era in which the Skinks played the greater role in the plans of the Old Ones, the remainder of the Lizardmen did not sit idly by while war waged across their realm. Though great numbers of Saurus were cut down by the plagues of Clan Pestilens, many did resist its virulence and fight the Skaven.

One such warrior was the mighty Lotl, a Saurus leader from the temple-city of Xlanhuapec. Though many of Lotl's spawnings were struck down by a vile plague, the warrior himself displayed a prodigious constitution. This was fortunate, for it was Lotl alone who held the gates of the Ruby Sanctum when the most vile of pestilent winds decimated his cohort.

When Tehenhauin led a relief force to join up with Lotl, the prophet found the Saurus surrounded by many hundreds of slaughtered Skaven, and declared that the Serpent God was well pleased with Lotl's offering. From that day forth, Lotl marched alongside the Prophet, and was present at every major battle of the era.

Title: Stories of the Serpent's Prophet
Subtitle: Poqenichi - Warbanner Bearer of the Red Host
Regions to trigger: Altar of the Horned Rat ME: Subatuun
Description:

Throughout the tumultuous Age of Strife, Tehenhauin's armies always marched to war beneath the protection of the Prophecy of Sotek, carved upon its plaque and held aloft by the prophet himself or by his attendant. But many lesser totems of the Serpent God accompanied his armies, and the Red Crests and their chiefs carried these.

Some totems were serpent-forms made of gleaming gold and studded with green and red gems, whilst others bore inscriptions of the words of Tehenhauin. One totem was a hide cut from the back of the Plague Pontifex Quetch, who was defeated by the Skink Chief Poqenichi at the Battle of the Golden Stair. Poqenichi mounted the plague-ridden hide upon a pole and bore it into battle as the army's warbanner, and so revolting was its stink that the entire army was driven into a murderous rage by its very presence upon the field of war.

Title: Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: The Grey Guardians
Regions to trigger: Ss'ildra Tor - Grey Guardians
Description:

Lord Mazdamundi slumped in his palanquin. It was difficult to meditate mounted atop the marching Stegadon, but with effort it was possible. Just before he could re-enter his trance he noticed something in the waking world that triggered an ancient memory. He knew these mountains. He made these mountains.

It was 1004 IC, at the equinox of Tlac-Ipec, when he had consulted the plaques of Huatl. They spoke plainly of the threat that approached, and how best to defeat them. And so it was that Lord Mazdamundi had tapped into the vast powers of the Geomantic Grid and raised the mountains in these lands, smashing the Dark Elf invasion force asunder. The mountain ranges were forevermore known as the Grey Guardians, and their treacherous peaks foiled many future invasions well-before they could ever reach Lustria.

Yet Mazdamundi scowled, the warmbloods now infested these lands. He determinedly re-entered his trance. Perhaps Lustria needed more guardians...

Title: Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: Pilfering Warmbloods
Regions to trigger: Skeggi
Description:

“For too long have the warmbloods blighted these lands,” Lord Mazdamundi decreed. “For too long have they pilfered trifles from our pyramid-temples. Yet now they have taken another one of the sacred plaques. This cannot stand.”

The Slann had known all along about the founding of Skeggi and the plague of gold-lusting warmbloods that were disturbing their meditations, as their coming had been predicted on the great plaque of the three hundredth cycle of the two moons in Ito.

Lord Mazdamundi turned to face his host. “Xla Xaurux quaha tec oxld huac izqua Cann iq ndan!” (Raise Saurus and prepare the weapons of war, for a time of tribulation is upon us!)

Title: Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: El Cadavo's Folly
Regions to trigger: Swamp Town
Description:

On three separate occasions, disgraced Tilean noble, adventurer and sometimes pirate El Cadavo established a port settlement, naming it 'Cadavo' after himself upon the coast of the Isthmus of Pahuax. Upon the foolish warmblood's first three attempts, Lord Mazdamundi of Hexoatl was roused from his slumbers to consider the matter. Like a Stegadon's tail swatting away a bothersome bloodwasp, he ordered the settlements destroyed, before returning to his meditations. None believed the human would return. Yet, Lord Mazdamundi took a reading of the southern constellations, and determined that, indeed, the intruders would return one last time.

In IC 1944, after having reestablished his port, El Cadavo searched for the so-called Obsidian Column, a massive monument supposedly located some 500 miles into the Lustrian interior. After two failed searches, the third attempt met with success, proving that the tales of precious stones set within the monolith were true. The raiders loaded their wagons with chests overflowing with riches, but in their greed lingered too long.

Lord Mazdamundi had foreseen the expedition and dispatched a large force from Hexoatl, which arrived at the Obsidian Column the very morning El Cadavo was planning to leave. The Lizardmen attacked before El Cadavo could form his army into a defensive line, and though his men fought bravely to defend their treasure, they were slowly ground down by the inexorable might of the Saurus warriors. His army died to a man in defence of their cursed gold and precious stones, though the pirate lord himself escaped the slaughter and made his way back to the coast, a ruined man - physically, mentally, and most definitely financially.

The bodies of El Cavado's men hang from the sides of the Obsidian Column to this day, the jewels they had attempted to plunder set within dead eye sockets as a dire warning against any who would incur the wrath of Lord Mazdamundi. And as for the Cadavo settlement? It was destroyed a fourth and final time as Lord Mazdamundi, invoking the names of the Old Ones, unleashed the immense power of the tectonic plates, bringing about a terrible earthquake that reduced the settlement to shattered ruins. When the dust had finally settled, not one of the town's stones stood upon another and all its defenders were crushed to a bloody pulp. Cadavo was, at last, wiped off the map.

Title: Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: The Quango
Regions to trigger: Pahuax
Description:

It was the great Lord Mazdamundi himself who unearthed the last remaining egg of the mysterious Quango. Since the time of the Old Ones, this relic had been held in a secret, underground chamber, and it was only discovered as Mazdamundi rebuilt the pyramid-temple of Pahuax. Before its discovery, only the name of the creature was known and its existence was mere legend.

No one knows exactly what will hatch from the egg or why it was held in stasis. The contents of this egg could be anything from a withered, aged creature on the verge of death to the thunderous peals and radiant hues of a Quango in its full glory.

Title: Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: The Battle of the Blue Flames
Regions to trigger: Temple of Tlenclan
Description:

Just south of the Scorpion Coast stands the ruins of Itzahotek - shattered stone blocks and archways that have long since crumbled beneath their own inexorable weight. Yet if enough of the vines and overgrowth could be cut away, closer inspection would reveal some columns that do not fit with the rest of the ruins. Instead of the stone remains of angular ziggurats, a great many of the pylons scattered throughout the jungle resemble billowing flame, frozen into solid crystal. The rent in the veil of separation was made during the Great Catastrophe when Daemons had entered the world in vast numbers. Over the long ages, Itzahotek's central archway, a key feature in plugging the gap, was at last defeated by slow erosion. Even as the surrounding jungle beasts halted to listen to the sound of crashing masonry, ripples in the current of eldritch energy spread out, alarming any sensitive enough to detect them.

The Slann awoke from their dream-like slumber, their large amphibian eyes bulging in consternation. They were instantly aware of the disturbance in the Geomantic Web and what such a calamity would bring. Once again, a crack had opened between realms, allowing raw Chaos to pour into the world. Pillars of blue fire erupted to loom far above the jungle's canopy. Greater Daemons of Tzeentch arrived to circle about the eldritch flames, growing strong in the rich flow of pure magic. Tides of change washed over the verdant forests, causing newly sentient vines to twist in endless knots and mist to congeal into ethereal beings. Hoping to stem the rising peril, the Lizardmen launched a counterattack the size of which had not been seen for a thousand years. Scores of Carnosaurs and entire herds of Stegadons were bound by the Slann, and in the vanguard were so many snakes that the ground seemed to be a slithering carpet.

Lord Mazdamundi and the host of Hexoatl marched behind the devastating first wave. Spells of great magnitude were levelled upon both sides and the jungle was blasted apart. The Daemons were at last driven back by the spectres of dead warriors summoned forth by Mazdamundi, which allowed time for the gateway to be closed. In the blackened ruins, the pillars of blue flame were frozen in time, and in their midst, a new protective archway was constructed. Now, hundreds of years later, the Battle of the Blue Flames is little remembered; the jungles have grown to reclaim the scoured lands, although there is an unwholesome taint about the area. The beasts there have a strange aspect and it is said that even the vines writhe with uncanny speed, strangling any creature that tarries too long.

Title: Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: The Battle for Antoch Plains
Regions to trigger: Antoch (Shifting Sands)
Description:

A young Knight Errant known as Pierre led an army of veterans from Bretonnia's battles in Lustria to Araby, where he eventually became Master of the Knights of Antoch, and Lord of that land. With him, he brought the Staff of Jade, an artifact acquired during the looting of the Lizardmen city of Huatl. The staff became a heirloom of the city's lords, a symbol of power and security, and remained so for centuries, but eventually the Lizardmen required the use of its hidden powers. Lord Mazdamundi himself gathered an army of innumerable size and led the forces of Lustria to reclaim this most ancient of artifacts.

Using the magical energy still suffusing the world through the conjunction of planets Mazdamundi moved a huge army to Antoch to regain the staff. When Mazdamundi's forces from Hexoatl besieged the fortress of Antoch, the proud Bretonnians sallied forth rather than face their foe from behind their fortress-walls. As the morning mists rolled back revealing the Lizardmen horde, the Bretonnian Knights rode forth. At their fore the Bretonnian General rode, pennant fluttering in the breeze. With a flamboyant gesture he slammed shut his visor, lowered his lance and uttered a single word: "CHARGE!"

In a titanic and bloody battle that would become known as the Battle for Antoch Plains, the Lizardmen were able to defeat the Bretonnian army that rode out to face them, razing Antoch and reclaiming the Staff of Jade. In doing so, their great Mage-Priests were able to perform an ancient ritual, saving the entire world from destruction at the hands of Chaos.

Title: Stories from the Solar City
Subtitle: Zlaaq
Regions to trigger: Monolith of Fallen Gods (Isthmus of Lustria) ME: Ziggurat of Dawn
Description:

Lord Mazdamundi sat upon his palanquin, hovering over the herds of grazing Stegadon beneath him. His loyal mount, Zlaaq, was amongst the herd, and Mazdamundi was pleased to see the beast frolicking with his kin. It was easy to forget, after 500 years as both his mount and weapon of war, that Stegadons were, in fact, social creatures, often roaming the continent in herds ranging in size from a handful of kin to great migrations of many thousands.

Yet the time for such musings was over. Mazdamundi reached out with his mind and called to Zlaaq as he had a hundred times past. The Stegadon lumbered towards him, and Mazdamundi lowered his palanquin upon the beast's back. It was time to go to war.

Lizardmen are now basically done.
EVENTS
Mazdamundi: 11
Kroq-Gar: 10
Tehenhauin: 8
Nakai: 7
Tiktaq'to: 5
Gor-Rok: 8
Lord Kroak: 5

Title: Warden of the White Tower
Subtitle: The Gates of Kislev
Regions to trigger: Kislev
Description:

The skies above beleaguered Kislev shimmered with every color, as the sorcerers of Chaos sought to claim the magical advantage. Unlike in the centuries before, their human foes could now contest them on the same terms.

Teclis was not disappointed as Volans deflected blasts of blue fire with a barrier of blinding light. He had taught Volans the White Wind, both because of its potency against the horrors of Chaos and because its difficulty demanded a talented mage. Elsewhere, Friedrich von Tarnus waded into a group of Chaos Warriors, flaming greatsword in hand. If utterly lacking in subtlety, von Tarnus was a competent swordsman and a potent mage. Teclis smiled wryly at that thought. Even the human was more like a Loremaster than him. If unable to match the sorcerers in sheer power, the human wizards were competent nonetheless.

Of course, neither could hope to match the elves in skill. Teclis had not defeated N'kari twice and drove Malekith from the field at Finuval Plain to lose against mere shamans. With a gesture. he drained the Winds from the sorcerers, freeing up the human mages to blast at the Chaos army. Lightning crackled from his sword, striking down warrior and daemon alike. Finreir's fireball destroyed the beastmen attacking the gates, allowing the garrison to withdraw from their sally.

A host of knights came over the northern hills, banners snapping in the gallop. Any doubts about their allegiance were dispelled when their front rank charged full tilt into the rear of the Chaos army. The garrison sallied forth from another gate, a gleaming golden throne at its head. Teclis snorted; kings and princes from many races fought at the front, but only the Dwarfs were ridiculous enough to have their king fight from atop a throne.

Teclis momentarily mused about how the Empire he was aiding called the bearded folk allies and marched to the defense of other humans. For all of the diplomacy of the Asur , the humans seemed to have more friends than them. The Asur would not have marched to the aid of their kin in Athel Loren in such force. Even if they did, he suspected their allies would be few.

Teclis turned to see a massive barbarian in a fur pelt fighting a figure in black armor, daemons bursting into white flame around him. As the barbarian's golden hammer struck down his foe, first doubt then fear rippled through the Chaos army. Teclis surmised the slain warrior was the Chaos Lord, the one they called Everchosen. With his death, his army lost its will to fight.

Even as the Chaos Lord's broken body fell to the ground. the giant barbarian dissipated like a glamour, revealing the unassuming figure of Magnus von Bildhofen, hammer in hand. The humans whispered that their man-god Sigmar had answered their prayers and come upon their leader. On his part, Teclis could not find any alternate explanation, for Magnus was plainly not a mage. He suspected that the priestly talk of faith and miracles was more real than he initially thought.


Title: Warden of the White Tower
Subtitle: A Fallen Comrade
Regions to trigger: Bechafen, Essen, Nagenhof
Description:

In the open plains of Ostermark, it was said that the finest human horses in the Empire could be found. For his part, Teclis was not concerned with the horses whatsoever, for he knew the steeds of Ellyrion were far superior. He dismounted where the open plains met the thick forests so common in the Empire. A short way into the forest, he came upon a clearing. An effigy of white stone stood in the center, a proud figure in a long coat of mail with a greatsword. Reports indicated that the locals believed it was in honor of a great hero, who gave his life to cast down the inhuman threat of Chaos.

For once, the humans were right. Teclis took a moment as he paid his respects at Yrtle's tomb. He would have been pleased to know that the Chaos host he died fighting had eventually been destroyed. But the fight would never truly be over and this was not the time to reminisce about fallen friends. Teclis turned to rejoin his army. He had important matters to attend to.

Thank you He Who Cannot Aim your events are live now!

Time to post about someone who isn't a sick elf.

Title: Servant of Sigmar
Subtitle: A Cursed Fortress
Regions to trigger: Fort Oberstyre
Description:

The night that the crusaders entered Fort Oberstyre's walls was long and fraught. A Grand Exorcism is not undertaken lightly, and the ghosts that Mannfred had bound to the fortress shrieked and screamed until the intruders began to doubt their sanity. Yet Volkmar's self-belief was infectious. The grizzled old priest strode through the fortress' passageways and corridors like a conquering king. The sheer intensity of his faith burned the writhing shadows from every corner, and blows from his blessed warhammer banished those spirits foolish enough to emerge from the dripping walls.

The tattered zealots accompanying him were as candles next to Volkmar's blazing bonfire of belief, but they had faith enough. They scoured broods of creeping degenerates from Oberstyre's cellars, their religious fervour and devotion driving them to fight as hard in the pitch-black vaults as in the light of day.

By the time morning arrived, not a single evil soul dwelt within the walls. Oberstyre's centuries-old curse had finally been lifted.

PS. Finally an event that isn't me doing creative writing; Source: Sigmar's Blood pg. 22.